


Senseless Sentences

by ArcherAuthor (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Tags to be added, drugs tw, tones of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ArcherAuthor
Summary: "You know what, Hamilton? I'm going to continue my morning jog now. You have a nice day," and with that the poofy haired man in too short shorts jogged away
College isn't easy, no one will tell you it is. The work hours are long and the tests are hard, but sometimes the most difficult thing are your peers. But oh my god, does Alexander Hamilton know that.
Things in college only get harder when you've suddenly hit writer's block and the only person who can give you inspiration is literally your mortal enemy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't have a beta reader or an editor yet and if anyone would like to do that for me, heh just hit me up! Also, this chapter is slow, but I was trying to set the scene. Just so you know.

Sentences are a lot like life if you think about it.

Every single one has to start with a capital and every single one has to end with a period. Isn't that odd? How things work like that?

Some sentences are short and abrupt, others go on forever, filled with commas and pauses. Some make perfect sense, they have rhyme and reason. Others seem to have no point other than to put words on a page.

Or maybe Alexander was reading to much into this at three in the morning and should probably head to bed. He frowned a bit, tipping his head forward and running his hands over his hair which was pulled in to a messy bun, loose strands everywhere. He'd been sitting at his desk, staring at the screen of his laptop for six hours now. He'd typed three words; "The story of," that was it. He had a book report due at ten in the morning, but for some reason the words weren't there and that was possibly the worst thing to ever happen.

He finally stood up, pacing about his small dorm room as he glanced between the door and his bed and his laptop. Eventually, and by that I mean an hour later, he shut down his laptop, pulling up Google Docs on his phone instead and heading out of the room in a pair of athletic shorts, a shirt that used to read something about liberty but had since given up its right to proclaim anything and a pair of socks adorned with nike slides.

It was moments like this he became grateful all over again that his roommate had been kicked out and they had yet to replace him. Lee had been a menace and even a terrible one at that. He was glad that he could leave the dorms at any time he really wished, without having to deal with some narcissist shouting at him about beauty sleep.

Especially considering maybe the fresh air would get him going again. For some reason he hadn't been able to write recently and that was honestly something he'd never dealt with before. Words were meant for Alex. They were always his and he could always trust in them, but apparently not tonight. They weren't on his side. Maybe it was because he'd skimmed the book, finding the whole thing boring or maybe because he'd gone three days without sleep—which wasn't even that long, honestly.

Either way he was outside now and the cold air made the hair on his arms stand on end. He headed towards the quad, the whole campus still blanketed in darkness as he walked, only reall guided by his familiar memory and the lamp posts placed strategically just far enough part for there never to be a completely dark space. The sky was pretty, Alex noted thoughtfully. He hadn't considered how much he'd missed seeing the stars in such clarity till now. They were absolutely beautiful.

He then looked back down to his phone, continuing to try and type his essay in the Google Docs app, frustratedly tapping the backspace button. He was about to type the word hubris when suddenly his hands and basically all of him collided with a chest. He dropped his phone out of surprise, cringing when he heard the sound of glass shattering, he stared down at the device before looking up at the root of the problem.

He was a tall man, reminding Alex of someone, but he couldn't quite place who. He had dark skin compared to his own, but rather light skin compared to some of Alex's friends. He had a trimmed amount of facial hair that helped shape his face, his eyes were very dark at he was muscular, really muscular. However, the whole feeling of being threatened was replaced by a comedic air when Alexander realized the guy was wearing a rather small pair of running shorts, a purple tank-top and his poofy hair was rather wild.

"What the hell man? Do you not know where you're going? You broke my phone!" was the first thing out of his mouth and then the man was laughing. Laughing? Seriously?

He must of seen Alex's offended look because he did his best to stop, "I broke your phone? Sorry, last time I checked, you ran into me, little guy."

Oh this motherfucker had it in for him now. "Little guy? Excuse you! I was minding my own business, I glanced down at my phone for five seconds and then you ran into me! I would have assumed you'd be watching where you're going, but you don't sound like the kind of person who thinks ahead for that sort of thing." he said visviously, reaching down to grab his phone and examine the damage.

"Okay, okay, look, I'll buy you a new one. No problem. Just stop shouting. It's four in the morning and most people are sleeping."

"I don't need you to buy me a new one." Alex said as he stood back up, looking over the hairline cracks going all about the screen. The phone still worked, but he feared its condition might get worse.

The man in front of him had arched one eyebrow in a curious manner, "Then stop screaming at me."

"I am not screaming at you. Don't say that. That makes me sound insane. Sorry if I got upset because you ran into, made me drop my phone which is now cracked,—thank you very much—then called me little." he said, his voice angry, obviously.

"Well you are little."

"I am not little!"

"You're little to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

And then the guy was laughing again, because apparently this was hilarious. Yep, somehow this was the funniest thing that could be happening on a Thursday morning at four a.m.

"Name's Thomas Jefferson, by the way." the guy, Jefferson, said, extending his hand in offering of a handshake.

And Alex took it, glaring up at him, "Alexqnder Hamilton."

"Oh, I knew your voice sounded familiar." and the more or less jovial tone of Jefferson's voice was gone now. "You're that little liberal punk from my foreign affairs class. Always have to say your opinion on everything don't you?"

"Well what's the point in keeping quiet when I've got so much to say?"

"Maybe we would be further in the course if you'd let the professor talk for once." the poofy haired man pointed out, punctuating the sentence with a sarcastic shrug that made his hair bounce just a tiny bit.

"The teacher doesn't jack shit." Alex grumbled as he then started looking back at his phone, typing away again.

"Mhm, I'm sure that's why he has four degrees in not only teaching but foreign affairs and political theory. Sure, sure, Hamilton."

"Stop shouting, it's four in the morning, most people are sleeping." he said, mocking what Jefferson had told him earlier.

"I was not shouting!"

"That's funny, I'm pretty sure the definition of shouting is to raise your voice louder than it's casual tone. Where do you get your dictionaries?"

"Vous peu putain de merde—"

"Watch your language there, Mr. Jefferson," Alexander said with a prideful smirk, still not looking up from his phone.

"You know what, Hamilton? I'm going to continue my morning jog now. You have a nice day," and with that the poofy haired man in too short shorts jogged away.

Alex was a bit upset that he was now left to walk alone again, but at least his writing was now moving along smoothly. He shook his head a tiny bit in disdain. Maybe next time he should just argue with someone when he felt tongue-tied. Either way he continued on his path, not completely sure where he was going, but that didn't matter because he was going to keep his gaze focused on the shattered screen of his smart phone anyways.

Maybe he should learn to focus because while he'd been looking at his phone he ran into something again, however he didn't drop his device again. There was a laugh, but not from what he ran into, because what he'd run into was a lamppost. He stepped back and looked over at the person laughing and of course it was fucking Jefferson again.

"Do you ever learn?"

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! First chapter done! I hope you guys all enjoyed it! I'm hoping to get chapters out once a week or once every other week, it'll probably be more often as we go along.
> 
> I'm always open to constructive criticism!  
> And you can always find me on tumblr at @askthee-Hamilsin or @mm-illtryagain


End file.
